"Miss Heller, how are you feeling today?" The psychologist, Ms. Jean, asked. As per usual, a polite and kind smile was on her face, which usually helps to relax her anxious and weary patients.
They would open their hearts to her and she would help them get rid of their worries.
That is, only if they would allow her to.
The girl the psychologist named was unusually nervous. Her bright red and flaming hair was unusually calm and dispirited. Her bright and cheery face distorted into nervousness and anxiety, with a bit of fear in her eyes.
Her body shifted uncomfortably in a soft sofa she would have usually snuggled happily in if she were in her own home.
Her palms were clammy with sweat.
Picking up a lock of long, red hair, she played with it. Twirling, tugging, and twisting.
Her dull emerald green eyes looked everywhere except at the psychologist in front of her.
Whenever the girl comes here, she always recalls the incident that caused her to have to come to this counseling appointment every week.
Ms. Jean saw that the girl was keeping silent as always. She sighed. She has been a psychologist for more than ten years and has met countless patients similar to her situation. She wasn't impatient and she didn't blame her for not talking.
It is really hard to open up about things that hurt, things that constantly stab at the heart at the mere mention of it.
Painful memories, painful experiences.
Which one of her patients hadn't gone through it?
'Poor girl.' Ms. Jean concealed the pity in her eyes. 'It's normal to act this way, especially after what she experienced.'
30 minutes later, the counseling session ended as always. Fruitless.
"Then I'll see you at your next appointment. Next week as always." Ms. Jean smiled and said in a friendly tone as she cleaned up the girl's files before she can put them away in her cabinet.
The girl nodded. Her red hair bouncing with her movements, yet still looking like it was lacking vitality.
"Goodbye, Ms. Jean."
The girl opened the door, stepped out, and closed the door.
She walked swiftly at a steady pace through the corridors of Hospital A. Extremely familiar with her surroundings due to her countless visits to this place, she moved without a pause in her steps.
Every fork in the road, she decisively turned either left or right, without needing to pause to think. She ignored all the signs on the walls, having long memorized them.
Fast, familiar, but absentminded as she was, she was bound to knock into someone eventually.
Turning a sharp corner, the girl didn't react in time, her head slightly bowed. The other party was walking at a fast speed, so fast that they were running—speedwalking in a hurry, as if by "walking" at a fast pace, they would be considered not "running" through the halls.
Bang!
The collision was hard.
The girl saw stars as she fell backwards. She felt dizzy. Her head buzzed.
Her eyelids reflexively fell down and then opened. Her pupils flickered, scanning up and down, and happened upon the corner of the lips of the other party.
In a daze, her eyes zoned in on the bleeding wound.
Although the red spot was small, in the tensing eyes of the girl, it seemed to grow infinitely bigger and bigger as seconds slowly inched by.
Blood.
So much blood.
Everything is covered in blood.
From head to toe. From head to toe…
"Huh? Gracie…?!" A close but distant voice sounded in surprise before Gracie's consciousness shifted back to a time long ago.
The sealed memory of her past opened due to the overlapping image of bruised lips and injuries all over the body.
In the middle school she went to, school bullying was prevalent and the school turned a blind eye to it.
She, like the others, walked the other way whenever they encountered bullies bullying someone. She didn't want to meddle or offend anyone. Less trouble is better than more trouble.
That day, it was the same as always. At least, that was the way it seemed at first.
Until a scream was heard coming from an area in the school. Gracie was frightened and then she got curious and went to check it out along with some other students.
Once she got there, there was a whole swarm of students gathered to watch the excitement. Even teachers came.
Without hesitation, Gracie dove in and pushed through the crowd to stand in front to see what the fuss was about. In the midst of the pushing and pulling, the crowd of noisy and squirming people suddenly stopped moving. Gracie saw that this was her chance. With great effort, she squeezed and finally made it to the frontline and took a deep breath when she suddenly froze.
She was shocked by the scene before her. Terrified, actually. And she wasn't the only one. Everyone had frozen up in fear at this moment.
Before her eyes, before everyone's eyes, a gleam of silver light flashed. It was particularly dazzling to not only the eyes but also the heart.
Everyone's hearts tightened at the sight of the knife in a student's hand.
The student with a knife in his hand and a ferocious expression on his face used to be called Vic by his friends and classmates. He was outgoing and friendly and had a lot of people he could call friends.
But starting from the second year of middle school, he didn't know what happened, for some reason, the bullies suddenly started targeting him. Over a short period of time, Vic lost all his friends and he was badly bullied every day. No one interfered and no teacher helped. Everyone eventually forgot his name, only recognizing him by the alias "the bully's victim."
He dreaded going to school, but he was too embarrassed and scared to tell his parents, so he continued enduring their wicked ways.
He thought, he can survive this.
He thought, maybe they will stop targeting him just as whimsically as when they first started.
But it eventually became too much for him.
They weren't just beating him up. They drove him crazy mentally.
One day, his psychological endurance reached its limit and he simply snapped.
Today, however, he smiled for the first time in a long time at his parents. The latter were surprised because it has been a while since they last saw their child so happy. They smiled, too.
Vic greeted his parents, excusing himself from breakfast, only taking a simple white steamed bun from the kitchen stove before leaving with something tucked in his arms and wrapped tightly with a white cloth. He left for school with brisk steps.
Stepping into the school building that was neither new nor old, just like him who was neither sane nor insane, Vic greeted everyone he met, surprising the people he greeted. They stared at him strangely as he walked past them.
He had finally managed to survive past their bullying phase. Just yesterday, his bullies agreed to his plea and promised to stop bullying him. Vic grinned.
He hummed a pleasant tone as he walked to the home economics classroom. His eyes sparkling like never before. Everyone who saw him was surprised. The gloomy and introverted bully's victim was actually so joyful today. Has he finally gone insane?
Before he reached the home economics classroom, someone stepped out of the flow of students in the hall and stopped Vic.
It was Mac. One of Vic's bullies.
Vic involuntarily trembled. At the sight, his body recalled the sensation of being beaten up and humiliated by the person before him. Vic couldn't control his reactions even if he wanted to. It was instinctive. It was beaten into him.
Mac was a big guy for a middle schooler. Full of muscles and strength. He was in his third year of middle school and would graduate next year. Compared to him, Vic was a skinny chicken—one can tell at a glance that he has no strength. Vic shed tears of joy at the thought of never seeing this muscular bully again next year.
Still trembling, Vic smiled a what he considered flattering smile. But it was in actuality stiff and ugly.
Mac frowned in disgust.
Before Mac, three more students stepped in. They were also part of the group of bullies who love to target Vic.
Vic gulped. He had an ominous feeling.
"M-Mac… what are you guys doing?" Vic struck up the courage to ask in a trembling voice, his words ending in a whisper as his courage depleted little by little as he spoke.
"Mac? It's Mr. Mac to you, sissy," Mac sneered and said as he aggressively stepped forward.
Vic took a step back. Although he didn't like the other party calling him a sissy, he was too afraid to fight back let alone retort.
"R-right. Hehehe…" Vic said with an awkward laugh.
With every step Mac took forward, Vic reciprocated with a step backwards. All the way until Vic's back hit a cold wall.
His heart, too, fell into an ice cellar at the same time.
"What…are you doing?" Vic asked again.
Mac laughed, as if Vic's question was silly. With amusement in his eyes, Mac took his own happy mood into consideration and considerately explained. "Hunting a prey."
"W-w-what?" Vic's eyes widened.
"That's right. You, our prey. It's time for us hunters to start hunting. We can't be lazy even in the mornings, you know." Mac raised an eyebrow and said cryptically. His group of bad friends laughed behind him.
The ominous feeling Vic had felt before became stronger at this moment.
"No… you said… you promised you wouldn't bully me anymore…" Vic stumbled over his words in his hurry. His eyes flashed with anxiety and hope.
Mac and his cohort laughed, full of self-satisfaction and evil intentions.
Mac grinned with his teeth showing. Then he acted surprised, "I did?"
Despite his uneasiness, Vic nodded.
Mac then made a deliberate sound of realization. "Ohh, right, I did."
Vic nodded again, quicker this time and without needing to be prompted.
Mac's easygoing expression suddenly morphed into an evil look. "But I never said that promise would extend to today. It only covered yesterday."
"What?!" Vic couldn't help but raise his voice.
The sharp sound caused Mac to frown in displeasure, his brows wrinkling as his eyes turned gloomy. The bullies behind him also frowned and closed in on Vic.
The students around them seemed to notice what was happening and either stopped what they were doing and watched the show or quickly moved away from the area.
"Did you just yell at me?" Mac asked in a tone that was not a question.
Vic gasped. He knew he was in real trouble now. He tried to deny it, "N-no!"
"You just yelled at me again." Mac looked certain and became angry.
Vic desperately shook his head in denial. He didn't, he really didn't. He didn't mean to, he was just too shocked and now he regretted it. Yelling was one of the most taboo actions in front of Mac. The latter saw this action as a sign of disrespect and rebellion, and the last time Vic yelled at Mac, Mac beat him to a bloody pulp. He had to lie to his parents that he met muggers so that they would not doubt the source of his injuries.
Mac punched Vic.
Vic was shocked by the sudden impact on his cheekbones, his eyes widened in pain and fear.
Mac didn't stop. He relentlessly punched and kicked Vic. Vic screamed and crouched down to protect himself.
Vic closed his eyes, tears squeezed out from the corners.
Why?
Why?
Why?
Why did they give me hope only to dash it to the ground?
Vic lifted his head up slightly and saw Mac's malicious expression and the look of laughter and enjoyment on the bullies' faces.
A sudden realization hit him.
He wanted to call himself stupid and slap himself.
He should've known. They were only playing around with him, watching him make a fool of himself believing their lies. They lifted him high only to throw him down into the abyss.
They never intended to let go of him.
Pain spread throughout his body from the punches and kicks falling onto him like a violent thunderstorm.
But that pain could not compare to the pain he felt in his heart that was broken into countless pieces like broken glass shards. He felt so much pain that he couldn't stand it.
His eyes no longer had the sparkles they had at the beginning of the day, now, they were reddened with a madness and spirit that demanded vengeance.
With a mind of its own, his hand reached into his jacket and pulled something sharp and hard out.
The beatings suddenly stopped. Not because the bullies suddenly found their conscience, but because of the weird and creepy smile that suddenly slipped onto Vic's face.
That smile was full of blood, literally, and it brought about a sense of fear and trepidation to anyone who witnesses it. The students who stood and watched felt chills crawl up their backs and they shuddered.
The craze in Vic's eyes was so strong that it was hard for Mac and his cohort to ignore it.
But they didn't think anything of it. They were just creeped out for a moment. They had a firm belief that Vic could not, and would not, do anything to them.
They never thought that the sissy in front of them would resist, used to his habitual obedience.
However, this time, they went too far and pushed an innocent soul off the deep end.
And there was no turning back.